Shadows in the evening of the soul
by Velasa
Summary: ... Don't read this, please, it's unbearably terrible. I'm only leaving it up for the people who liked it in the past. (a tale from the 'Dreams' universe)
1. Default Chapter

"Shadows in the evening of the soul", by Velasa.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Summary- #1 in a series- A broken heart's beating can be deafening... but when the darkness seems to envelope Piccolo entirely, there's another... (a tale from the "Dreams" universe)  
  
11/14/01 1:21 PM  
  
~~NOTE- Hello, me again. Well, this is a back-story to my main fanfic, "Dreams fulfilled and stories told", and meant to be for those who've read the story and want to know more about the things that happened before I dropped them in the middle of everything. If you're not one of those mentioned above.. *shrugs* You can stay or go, just be warned that this is part of a bigger continuance, and some factors of it will seem too fast/won't make much sense/just seem like another one of those crappy two- second romance fics I know you've come across more than once if you read stories in this genre.  
  
This short series of pieces (five long so far, if I use the old stories I wrote a year ago as basis) focuses on something I rather ignored in "dreams"- the romance. For a story where the main character is Pic's lover, there's not much about the two of them together. I left that out for a reason- that story isn't about them, it just uses Oboe as a child of Old Nameksei to tell the story the namekian people as a whole in Act 2.  
  
But today, since it's Pic + Oboe's second anniversary as a couple, I decided to type and post the beginning of this short series. And here we go. *plops disclaimer down* PG-13 for dark themes and language. Listening to Creed's "Torn" for musical inspiration. ~~  
  
  
  
There was a darkness in the air that evening, a feeling, an emotion, a mood, like the shadow that rested out on the cliff, standing out against the soft colored light of the falling sun like a blemish in the skin, ruining the otherwise perfect sunset.  
  
But he didn't care.  
  
He stood, shiftless, staring out at the sea stretched out around him, his eyes watching the crests of the waves far below rise and fall like the beating of a silent heart.  
  
Pikkoro was dead silent. Cape billowed out behind him, the ivory shape flowing and catching the same colors that the waves below had, he appeared to be less of a living thing and more of a spirit, one of those ethereal beings that always seems to be above the world and all it's troubles, all it's pains, like some sort of god.  
  
A sigh.  
  
"If only that were true..." he hissed into the silence, piercing eyes narrowed in turmoil. The rough coastal wind slammed into him, but he didn't move, ignoring the discomfort for something more serious.  
  
He felt the darkness inside himself, it wasn't going away. And it almost frightened him. A deep part of his soul still had that old bloodlust, the desire. And this pain....... {{Gohan....... damnit, why? Why do I have to care? You don't. You're perfectly happy, with Videl. Married... how in hell is he getting married? He's still a kid... to me anyway. But what I think isn't important anymore, is it?}}  
  
With the sun falling before him, seeming to echo his own decent, he sat down, holding his head in his hands and closing his eyes.  
  
High up on the cliff-face perched a small form, her quiet sapphire eyes staring out at the white and emerald shape. She sighed gently, hugging her arms around herself. {{What now?}} her mind asked silently as she stared at him, watching from afar, but wanting to be closer. He was right there, only fifteen horizontal feet away, back to her, facing the cliff and setting sun in the impending darkness. {{What's wrong with me that I feel like this? Who ARE you? How can you do this to me, when I've never even met you? Or are you who I think you are, who I hope..... oh god please, let it be you, I haven't seen you in so long- Yen MUST be wrong, you couldn't have changed, let alone died....}}  
  
Shadows were being cast now, the cliff catching the last light of the sun and holding it there like it would never let go. And so Pikkoro held to his sanity, his soul, his heart. But as it always does, the sun set eventually, pulling away the warmth. And the two lovers on the beach far below hardly noticed.  
  
Clenched fists pressed against his aching skull, heavy-sudden breathing, and heavy heart. These were his pains. Deep, five-times scar on his heart, like the wound on his soul. Gohan hadn't come. Gohan hadn't even seemed to care. So he bore his pain alone. Only Son had given a damn, but that's only because Son cared about everyone. Noone really gave a damn about him. His scars were born alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.  
  
Noone cared.  
  
Or so he thought.  
  
Off in the distance, a heart quickened as he stood, shaking. She could have sworn his face was damp.  
  
With his burdens, his losses, his failings, with his last purpose gone, Pikkoro felt no sadness. Only emptiness. With that decision on the beach far below, Gohan had given himself to Videl, and wouldn't want his old sensei bothering him. He only needed one father now. He didn't need Pikkoro for anything. He was stronger than him, faster than him, better. Gohan wasn't a little boy anymore. He was a man. And he didn't need any more guidance.  
  
The namekian man pressed his hand to his heart, feeling the slow beating that pounded in his ears almost painfully, that had done so ever since the boy had begged him into coming to that damn wedding, the one where afterward he'd stepped out the door, walked away, and collapsed crying in a place where noone would find him. He'd half-hoped Gohan would notice he was missing, that he would look for him, that he could let his tears out with someone else to lean on, but no. The boy hadn't found him, or even tried.  
  
That had been two months ago, and he hadn't heard a word from Gohan since. Nothing.  
  
He pulled his had away, curling it half into a fist and staring at his claws.  
  
{{Is this the day? Is this the day I finally do it? Or am I going to run away again, like I have all my life??}} his mind asked him in silence, a silence which gave no answer.  
  
None save to curl his hand back into a fist.  
  
He had nothing to loose. No friends, no reasons, no happiness, no laughter, no more of the child he loved like a son, a best friend, possibly even a soulmate....  
  
So Pikkoro had no more purpose.  
  
And as the night's darkness enveloped him like death's own hands, Pikkoro made the shot.  
  
A quick flash of pain threaded throughout his body for an agonizing second, but before long he couldn't feel anymore, the blackness filling his vision as he collapsed to the ground like a puppet who's strings had been cut... He couldn't see the blood that was over his hands, couldn't smell it all around him, all that faded to black like his vision as the blackness swirled in his eyes- it was only............ dark. But... he still felt nothing.  
  
No peace.  
  
No relief.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Just a deep, searing blackness.  
  
And a pinpoint of light.  
  
light?  
  
Why would there be-  
  
Before his thoughts could comprehend it, the pinpoint enveloped him, and his own eyes jerked open to let him feel the last bit of healing magic wash over him.  
  
Healing magic?  
  
He felt something fall against him, and jerked his head to see a......... girl?  
  
Wha...huh?  
  
She was unconscious, totally limp, slumped over him, his blood staining her hands.  
  
.......  
  
Pikkoro didn't know what was going on. He'd been healed.... and, since noone else was around.. was it this thing?  
  
He sat up, looking at the one that'd saved his life. WHY? Why the hell had it done that? And why wasn't it moving?  
  
It wasn't breathing. Whatever it was. The thing looked-  
  
like him.  
  
Was that why it had saved him? Because it looked like him?  
  
He didn't know. But it was nice to be feeling something again- confusion. He wanted to know why. He couldn't find out if it died.  
  
With a jolt of chi he got it's heart started, and watched as it slowly came to.  
  
The first thing in her blurry vision was swirling black, but then a green shape came into view, and cleared to become a shadowed face with dark, perceptive eyes. It was starring at her........... oh god, it was HIM. The one... wait, he was alive! It'd worked!  
  
"Who are you? Why did you do that?"  
  
The voice cut through her heart like a razor, and to hear it aimed at her was almost enough to make her faint. For a second her heart twisted in a knot- it had his voice!- But it came again in the same curt tone, and she whispered "Oboe." in a slightly frightened voice.  
  
"Why did you do that?"  
  
The words she'd heard herself say over and over again in her mind refused to come to her now, and her answers came out like stutters- "I... didn't want you to die."  
  
"WHY."  
  
Caught aback, she whispered "I.. don't know, sir."  
  
"Who am I?'  
  
"? Don't you know, sir?"  
  
"I do. I want to see who you think I am."  
  
"D.... Damaiou, sir."  
  
".... Then why did you help me?"  
  
"You remind me of him, sir."  
  
"Then WHY IN GOD'S NAME DID YOU HELP ME????" he shouted, his aggravation growing. What the hell was going on??? Why in kami's name would someone help him, Ma Juniaar, let ALONE if they'd thought he was his goddamned father?? The anger in his voice bled into his face, and he watched the thing he was interrogating quake with his every word.  
  
Feh. It'd been a long time since anyone had been scared of him. What a great feeling to have again..... His thoughts were distracted when she squeaked out another reply-  
  
"Because, sir, "  
  
"STOP WITH THE SIR CRAP!"  
  
"...yes."  
  
"Continue."  
  
"I didn't want you to die, you remind me of someone I knew, someone I miss terribly, a friend of mine from my home..... We were forced here, and when I finally awoke from my sleep I was told he'd become a deamon and died...."  
  
Pikkoro was dead silent once again that night, eyes boring straight into her as she spoke, but his glare shifted into confusion as he whispered "You knew my father?"  
  
  
  
  
  
~~NOTE- well, that's all for right now //.^ Expect more soon. If you enjoyed it, let me know. If it sucked, let me know. If you like cheese when you read fanfics, hell, tell me! *laughs* I'll only feel motivated to work on this series instead of one of my other projects if people let me know what they think of it. Ciao ~~  
  
11/14/01 3:17 PM 


	2. Photographs faded in the sun

___Chapter 2- photographs faded in the sun...___  
~~~NOTE- musical inspiration, The Smashing Pumpkin's "the boy", "believe", and "cherry". #2 in a series of back/side stories for my "Dreams" universe. ~~~ 11/19/01 9:23 PM  
  
Wide eyes.  
  
".... what?"  
  
"I asked you. You knew my father?"  
  
Hearing it again, Oboe's wide sapphire eyes only shook, like her lip, like her hands, like her shoulders, like her entire emerald form. No, not him, it wasn't him..... Oh god, Yen HAD been right, he WAS gone... Maybe, if that had been right, just maybe she'd been right about, about other things, about.....  
  
Piccolo blinked twice, even more lost than earlier with this new development. Instead of staring and quivering like a leaf on the ground, now the girl was clutching her face in her hands, sobbing bitterly- and quivering like a leaf on the ground.  
  
{{Nani?}} he murmured to himself, cocking an eyeridge. {{What IS it with females that makes them act so bizarre? First it appears out of nowhere and drags me back to this plain, then it calls me by HIS name, and babbles something about sleep and starts crying. Damn, what a weird creature.}} The namekian man blinked again, curling up his top lip slightly. That noise was getting on his nerves....  
  
"STOPIT!!!" he shouted, hoping he'd be listened to. It didn't work- she only cried louder.  
  
NOW he was pissed. Pulling up to a standing position, he grabbed her by the back of her gi and wrenched her to her feet, glaring hard at her, preparing to slap some sense into the thing and/or kill it outright-  
  
and stopped.  
  
Those eyes....  
  
They were almost.... familiar....  
  
Like a bullet ripping through his mind his eyes rolled inward, bringing up a dim, subtle image, like a dream from ages ago- back as far as him memories went, all the way to that strange lonely place where the one that was both Kami and his sire had first opened his eyes, a memory, something that'd haunted the child who had no name, some thought that'd dragged him back to that place time and time again, a faint memory that he'd forgotten something, until he'd forced it away and left that place for good.....  
  
The sounds of the coast and the breeze over the sea was all that was for a few moments, a nervous silence so fragile that it seems the slightest thing would shatter it. It was broken abruptly when Oboe felt herself slam onto the ground, crying out at the unexpected impact- Huh?? One second she's about to be punched out, now she just gets plopped??  
  
Pulling her head up awkwardly, for that was the sort of angle she'd landed in, she stared up, looking for an answer, but only receiving the most perplexed look she'd ever gotten in her life.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Who are you?" he repeated again, eye still cocked at an angle, face drawn and arms lying at his sides.  
  
"O-"  
  
"No, not that, you idiot. Your name means nothing to me." he spat out, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. "What I mean is-" he knelt down, finally getting around to masking the blank confusion on his face with a mere interest. "- what are you doing here? And while you're at it, what in the devil's name are you suppose to be? You LOOK namekian, but it's obvious you aren't. All you are, as far as I know, is a pest who meddles in other people's business and cries too loud."  
  
He smirked internally as that last statement brought it's desired effect- she shouted out in indignation and was too pissed off to give anything but a straight answer- "Why you little- I am SO a namekisan-jin, bastard! Probably more of one than YOU are!! I told you, I got forced here, and I happened to confuse you for someone I knew quite well, so of COURSE I'd try to do something if you tried to KILL yourself!!! And while we're shooting questions at each other- Why the HELL would you want to punch a hole through yourself??"  
  
At that, the smirk vanished from his face, and she watched quietly as the look contorted to something quite different from the smug one she'd been getting- she'd hit a raw nerve. His eyes narrowed in scorn, and- pain?  
  
"Please, I'm sorry.." she whispered, trying to apologize for pulling at such a fresh memory without thinking, but his back remained to her, shoulders hunched, only giving one reply-  
  
"Go to hell."  
  
"Wait, I'm-"  
  
"GO TO HELL."  
  
"....."  
  
::silence::  
  
"...alright, then..." she hissed, walking off in the opposite direction, spitting out one last comment while cursing in her own language. "And right back at you, sharukus."  
  
---  
  
Piccolo took one last glance at the retreating form, uninterested, and was about to go off on his own when for merely a second, his vision flickered, a picture flashing across his mind like an old, old photograph, tattered and faint and barely there, but there all the same.  
  
Oboe was nearly gone, and had already pulled up a chi aura to burst off and leave the one she'd been following around for months now behind for good when a hand touched her shoulder, and she pulled her head back to stare at those dark, perceptive eyes again, his voice coming quietly.  
  
"I believe I had asked you a question. You knew my father?"  
  
"......" was all she could say for a moment, but then she rolled one sapphire eye back in his direction, observing his eyes closely. "Why? I'm just a meddler who whines too much, remember?"  
  
"I'm curious."  
  
The answer came back so fast she nearly tripped on her outstretched foot, the one she'd expected to use to propel herself off with when he didn't reply. But that not coming to be, she just stood there, stumped.  
  
"Why would you need to ask, if he was your father? Shouldn't you know more that a practical stranger?"  
  
"I never knew him. He was dead before I was ever born. And I'm intrigued because he wasn't quite the one to have friends, being the Deamon Lord and all..."  
  
A whisper was all he got in reply. "I knew no monster. You must mean someone else..."  
  
"No."  
  
"Hmn?"  
  
"Don't ask me how I know, I just do. I want to know what you do, I'm intrigued- it's not every day that this happens to me."  
  
Oboe chuckled at the sarcasm tossed in amid all the seriousness in his words, and shrugged to herself. {{Eh, what the hell, won't hurt...}} "Alright, if you really want to know all that, I'll tell 'ya. But I'm warning you, it's a long story."  
  
Piccolo seated himself about a yard away, plopped down in his general cross-legged stance, not having the faintest clue what he was getting himself into as he shrugged an agreement.  
  
"Shoot."  
  
  
  
  
~~~NOTE- well, that's the end of this section of the mini-series. Once I figure out how to re-write the next one, I'll get to typing that as well, and put it up here for you guys //.^ If you think I should just set up the next one as another chapter for "shadows" instead of another separate file, tell me. *ponders* probably just another chapter, since I've seen what chaos there can be when a love story (Hey, put those sticks down, I'm GETTING to the romance part, it took them a while!) is split into a sequence of one-shots, but doesn't tell the order //.-  
-  
Oh, and one last thing- Sorry if I end up disappearing for a time, I'm getting bogged down with Chemistry and Geometry right now, so my internet time has been just about nothing *flinches, sighs* I'll try to get my friend's help to post more chapters of "Dreams" and this in the down-time. My one-shots I'm working on right now ("sunflowers", "the journals of a young boy") will have to wait till I can log back on myself. Well, ciao everyone, till later!! ~~~  
11/19/01 11:05 PM 


End file.
